Ghazal 314: Last night the languor of your eye carried me away

دوش بیماری چشم تو ببرد از دستم
لیکن از لطف لبت صورت جان می‌بستم

عشق من با خط مشکین تو امروزی نیست
دیرگاه است کز این جام هلالی مستم

از ثبات خودم این نکته خوش آمد که به جور
در سر کوی تو از پای طلب ننشستم

عافیت چشم مدار از من میخانه‌نشین
که دم از خدمت رندان زده‌ام تا هستم

در ره عشق از آن سوی فنا صد خطر است
تا نگویی که چو عمرم به سر آمد رستم

بعد از اینم چه غم از تیر کج انداز حسود
چون به محبوب کمان ابروی خود پیوستم

بوسه بر درج عقیق تو حلال است مرا
که به افسوس و جفا مهر وفا نشکستم

صنمی لشکریم غارت دل کرد و برفت
آه اگر عاطفت شاه نگیرد دستم

رتبت دانش حافظ به فلک بر شده بود
کرد غم‌خواری شمشاد بلندت پستم

Last night the languor of your eye carried me away,
but through the grace of your lip I was shaping the image of life again.

My love for the musk-dark down of your cheek is not a thing of today;
for a long time I have been drunk from this crescent cup.

One thing pleased me about my own constancy: that, wronged as I was,
at the head of your street I never sat down from the search.

Do not look for a quiet life from me, who sit in the tavern,
for I have claimed the service of the rends for as long as I have lived.

On the road of love, beyond annihilation, there are a hundred dangers;
so do not say: "When my life has ended, I am free."

After this, what do I care for the crooked-shooting arrow of the envious,
now that I have joined my own beloved of the bow-shaped brow?

A kiss on the casket of your carnelian lips is lawful to me,
for I did not break the seal of faithfulness through mockery or cruelty.

A soldier idol plundered my heart and went away;
alas, if the kindness of the king does not take me by the hand!

The rank of Hafez's learning had risen as high as the sky;
grieving over your tall boxwood figure has brought me low.